


The Feast

by GretchenSinister



Series: GretchenSinister's 8 Days of Blacksand [6]
Category: Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Serial Killers, Cannibalism, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-21
Updated: 2020-03-21
Packaged: 2021-03-01 03:14:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 918
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23238271
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GretchenSinister/pseuds/GretchenSinister
Summary: For day 6 of Eight Days of Blacksand!*It could be venison, I suppose.
Relationships: Pitch Black/Sanderson Mansnoozie
Series: GretchenSinister's 8 Days of Blacksand [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1670623
Kudos: 4
Collections: Blacksand Short Fics





	The Feast

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on Tumblr on 12/15/2014.

“Of course you may bring another guest,” Sandy says into the phone held between his shoulder and ear. He cuts out a few more gingerbread men while letting the person on the other end speak. “No, no, don’t trouble yourself. We have plenty to share." He winks at Pitch, who smiles back, but doesn’t pause in his carving. "Well, if you must bring an offering, I don’t think anyone would mind another bottle of wine on the board.” He sets the gingerbread on a cookie sheet. “Oh, a red, I think, will go best with what we’re having. Yes. All right. See you soon.”

“When you’re done with those cookies, would you mind getting the meat grinder out of the sink?” Pitch asks. “I think I’ll make another meat pie, and that should be enough for everybody. I don’t want to attempt another roast, and anything else…I can’t think of anything else suitable that would be ready in a few hours.”

“Of course, darling.” Sandy wipes his hands on his apron and steps over to Pitch, giving him a kiss on his slightly blood-spattered cheek. “I’ll even grind if you hand me the cuts. You’re already going to such trouble to save the extra, and I know you’d rather have it raw.”

Pitch smiles widely, his teeth slightly pink. “I’ve already taken a chef’s share,” he says. “And I’d _rather_ do whatever makes you happy.”

“Ah, Pitch.” Sandy reaches up to cup his cheek, tapping his thumb lightly against Pitch’s teeth.

Pitch opens his mouth and gives Sandy’s thumb a sharp nip, and Sandy closes his eyes and inhales sharply.

“You’re so good to me,” he breathes.

Pitch licks the bite he left and lets go of Sandy’s hand, looking down at his work with a smile as Sandy goes to wash up.

“I’m glad we won’t have to freeze so much this time,” Pitch says. “The meat is so beautiful, it seems a shame to freeze any of it.” He packs away more cuts in pre-prepared freezer bags.

“Waste not,” says Sandy, rinsing soap from the grinder. He turns to Pitch while letting the warm water flow smooth and clear over his hands. “And I want you to know that I’m so very proud of you, of how you provide for us. How you brought us fresh meat just in time for the party.”

Pitch finishes wrapping a long bone that won’t fit in a freezer bag. “I do it for you, Sandy.”

Sandy smiles his wide, wide smile, and watches Pitch continue working as he brings the grinder over to their custom kitchen island, eight feet long if it’s an inch, much of the space currently in use now, but not as much as had been a few hours before. Pitch wields his knives like the expert he is, flaying flesh from bone and separating joints with gorgeous efficiency, with the sharp, quick movements of a predator. My wild animal, Sandy thinks. My sweet, sweet beast. How foolish he had been to think he could satisfy Pitch’s desires with illusions! Of course Pitch scented the difference immediately, of course he had escaped. But he had returned, beautiful creature, as if he had also sensed that Sandy could provide the reality they both craved.

The handle of the grinder quickly warmed in his hand, and he wondered how much he dared tease Pitch throughout the party. With fresh meat in his belly, it wouldn’t take much to goad Pitch into ravishing him in front of all their neighbors–a delightful thought, but such antics wouldn’t help maintain the flawless reputation they had constructed in this neighborhood. No, he could wait until the last guest had left, and wouldn’t Pitch be wilder with waiting? Sandy licked his lips. What a thought to carry through the carols and games!

“It’s snowing,” says Pitch, interrupting Sandy’s reverie. And so it was, large white flakes flying by the kitchen window to quickly cover the ground. The snow glowed under the Christmas lights of the neighborhood, and made them twinkle as it fell.

“Perfect,” Sandy murmured, and it was. Christmastime, and it snowing outside, and he indoors with his lover, readying themselves for a gathering of their friends and neighbors, with the private promise of a celebration between the two of them later. He laughed softly. “It is perfect. This is my perfect night. Why, if I was crafting a world for myself, it’d be time to collect.”

“No!” Pitch shouts, the noise almost a bark. He stabs the knife he was using deep into the island’s wooden surface. “No,” he says, softer, going over and cupping Sandy’s face with his bloody hands. “Collection is not for you. You deserve perfect night after perfect night–it is the others who must give up the only one they will ever experience for you. Always the others, my love. You are the sun god. My sacrifice is for you, for you to come back and stay, even after this darkest night of the year.”

Only Pitch can make Sandy’s blood race like this. “May I share in the chef’s reward, then, darling?” he asks, his voice low but not level, his pulse fluttering as fast as the stranger’s must have.

Pitch’s shoulders slump in relief. “I thought you’d never ask,” he whispers. He retrieves a thin sliver of meat he had set aside, very lean. “It is heart,” he says, placing it on his tongue and giving it to Sandy in a kiss.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments from Tumblr:
> 
> tejoxys said: I love how you write this pair’s interactions. The “collection is not for you” part is intense.
> 
> marypsue reblogged this from gretchensinister: #hello my name is Mary and how much I adore this is why I am not literally Mabel#here have some murder cannibal husbands#aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa


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